


Sweetness

by Ast



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Creampie, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Food Sex, Incest, Oral Sex, Pseudo-Incest, Vaginal Sex, sibing incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ast/pseuds/Ast
Summary: Switzerland and Liechtenstein do it in the kitchen
Relationships: Liechtenstein/Switzerland (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Sweetness

Switzerland was a great proponent of proper conduct, to the point where he often would resort to bypassing what some others counted as general courtesy for the purpose of making his stance clear.  
  
Running around in your neighbor's garden was simply not acceptable, particularly not when naked from the waist down.  
  
There was a difference, however, between telling others how to behave themselves and to know how exactly to act in situations he never had had to deal with before; and when Liechtenstein had wiped melted chocolate from his cheek and licked her finger, he had been forced into accepting that he was either going to have to let her finish the candy making alone, or actually telling her not to do that again. She hadn't given him the opportunity to make the choice; she had looked up at him and their eyes had locked.  
  
And then she had groped blindly for the bowl with the melted chocolate, and lifted two fingers to smear it down from the middle of his cheek to the corner of his mouth.  
  
Which was why, some five minutes after she had pulled him down to lick his face and his mouth, he was sitting on the kitchen floor with his sister halfway in his lap, one hand stroking her thigh beneath her skirt as he was lapping melted chocolate from a shoulder bared by undoing the top three buttons of her blouse. Her chest was heaving against him and her hands were clutching his shirt, and the feel of her soft, slippery skin against his tongue proved fatally distracting in that he didn't notice her pulling the shirt out of his slacks to push her hands up beneath it. Only when he felt the delicate pads of her fingers against his nipples and his suction on her shoulder was broken when a loud moan forced its way out of his mouth, only then did he realize that he was about to have sex in broad daylight, _on the kitchen floor_.  
  
"Liechtenstein," he said, panting as he pulled back enough to look at her face, all half-lidded eyes and wet, tempting mouth and her hair was a mess and his hand was still stroking the planes of her leg and creeping upwards, inwards, and he suspected that he wouldn't be able to stop himself even if he tried. Her chest was heaving between them, her breasts still too small to make any spectacle out of it and that just made it so much worse, the way she looked with her clothes in disorder and her shoulder naked and shiny from his saliva and her face reduced to half-lucid, wordless _pleading_. It was the look that belonged on sultry, air-brushed women in Germany's magazines - not on Switzerland's little sister, who slept in prim nightgowns with lace on the sleeves which she would take of on her own if he came to her bed. This, this utter _debauchment_ was so very wrong in a different way than it probably was wrong to let her into his bed as long as they kept the lights off, and the wrongest part of it was that Switzerland never in his life had been so turned on.  
  
"Big brother," said Liechtenstein, and pulled her hands back to start unbuttoning his shirt. He let her do it, and thought about suggesting they took this to bed. He leaned in to kiss her instead, and she was just as sweet and warm as he knew she would be as her arms came up around him and his hand finally continued all the way up to cup one of her cheeks, the tips of his fingers tantalizingly close to the edge of her panties. Her hips jerked at the touch, and she she sighed the kiss as he let her go, and gently pushed her down on her back. Switzerland understood how far gone they probably had been before this started when she raised her knees and parted her legs without prompting, giving him a full beneath the skirt before she reached up to pull it down to pool around her waist.  
  
The sight of her spread out in front of him like this didn't do much to quell his desire; it was with a discipline of centuries of carefully weighting his options that Switzerland managed to keep his hands steady as he reached out to hook his fingers into the waistband of his panties and pulled them off. He could have wept as he saw her, then, bare from the waist down and bare _down there_ like he knew she would be because she said it felt better. She was dark red and glistening with arousal, and he was leaning down to taste her before he had even finished the thought.  
  
For a fraction of a second, he thought that if it had been cold there, she would have been steaming. The familiar scent of sex was overpowering whatever reason that still held a grip on his brain, and the only thing he could see was the dark folds between her thighs, swollen with blood like he could feel himself against his pants, slick with fluids he knew from touching between her legs and feel his fingers slide easier as her sighs became deeper. He just hadn't _seen_ it like that before, never without the blankets covering, never with the lights on. He stared in reverence for a minute, raised his eyes to meet hers as she had lifted her head ever so slightly to look at him, pleadingly.  
  
He felt her body jerk under him with the gasp that rung out in the room when he pressed his mouth to her, smelled deeply as he felt firm bone somewhere beneath the thick pillowing of velvety flesh.  
  
It was difficult to think straight after that, as his world was narrowed down to warm and wet and Liechtenstein's quiet keening, of her thighs surrounding his head and her sex against his mouth. She would sigh as he moved to the sides to lick the outer lips in broad strokes, moan as he moved down to tease his tongue into the opening that he knew could take so much bigger. Cry out and push her torso up by her elbows as he focused his attention on the bundle protruding on the top, until he used his fingers to pull back the folds of skins and the tip of his tongue to caress the pea-sized head that was bared - then, her cries took a different form of _big brother, please, that's too much_.  
  
He lifted his head and let it rest on her stomach, catching his breath as he could feel the tension in her body, knowing that she hadn't come. He allowed himself a few more seconds of rest before he sat up to look down on her. Her eyes followed him from the floor as he climbed to his knees and reached for the stove, pulled the bowl from the saucepan of water where it had been melting. It was still runny, and hot against this fingers as he pushed two of them into the bowl, scooped and pulled them out to let it run down over her sex. Her hips jerked, once; there was a moan so deep that it verged to a cry, originating somewhere in her sternum as her eyes squeezed close and her hands fisted at her sides. He pushed the bowl aside so that he could bend down to lick it away, not so much for the taste as for the texture it added to her already well-lubricated mound. She was dripping onto the floor beneath her, translucent juices and chocolate both, and it was absolutely filthy and disconcertingly sexy.  
  
Switzerland could probably have spent the rest of his life on the stomach on the kitchen floor with his arms under his sister's bent knees and his face buried in her pussy. She came after the third time he used his fingers to let warm and thickening chocolate run over her, for then to smear it around, mixing it with her fluids, and licking it away as it started to cool. It was a gentle orgasm, judging by the sounds she made as her hips started pushing up against him; not the desperate cries from earlier, but moderate, appreciative groans of _oh, oh, oh_ until she stiffened for a few seconds, and then collapsed limply back onto the floor.  
  
He crawled up to lie beside her and gather her into his arms, holding her close as she came down and her pulse slowed enough for her to lift her arms and cling to him. They laid there without any words for a few minutes, wrapped around each other in the late afternoon. When he pulled back a little to look at her, one could have mistaken her for sleeping, eyes closed and face relaxed even as she looked like she just had been violated in the most licentious manner - which, admittedly, was not far from the truth. He kissed her cheek and the corner of her half-open mouth before he focused on her neck, soft and slow and without tongue, not at all demanding as it had been earlier. She answered by pulling herself even closer to him, and one of her hands drifted down to rest on his hip, where it rubbed and kneaded, still shying away from touching him _there_.  
  
"Big brother," she whispered and arched her head to give him better access to the underside of her jaw, "you should - ah - you, do you want to - "  
  
"Yes," he groaned it quietly against her skin, "Yes, please, just a little - "  
  
But she pulled away to climb to her feet, carefully gathering her skirt up around her waist as a hand stroked down over her butt to feel the stickiness that he had a brilliant view to from the floor. "I don't want to dirty the sheets," she said with a small frown, and Vash knew he had lost his common sense or his morals or at the very least any shred he might have had of gentility as he stood up and told her, "we don't have to."  
  
She didn't ask how when their eyes meet, and he reached around her to grasp her hips, standing behind her and pulling the fabric of her skirt out of her grip so that he could fold it up over her back. "We don't have to," he repeated and met her eyes as she looked at him over her shoulder and _Mother of Christ_ , the girl _smiled_ , quiet and understanding and hadn't he just licked chocolate off her on the kitchen floor, anyway? The ideas of innocence that he desperately had nurtured had probably been doomed from the start, but the last twenty minutes had killed them quite thoroughly. When Liechtenstein turned to brace her arms against the surface of their kitchen table, he gave up and gave in and didn't ask how she even knew about doing it standing up.  
  
He sank to his knees behind her, and used his mouth to clean up the worst that could have stained his pants. He let his hands smoothed over her legs, from her narrow hips down to the backs of her calves before coming to rest just above her knees. He could hear her sighing as he gave a final lick to what had been a particularly persistent streak of chocolate.  
  
She was leaning down over the tabletop when he stood up, her head resting on crossed arms and her legs lightly spread; her skirt remained bunched around her waist, resting on her back and pillowing her chest. He leaned over to cover her body with his, pressing his groin against her bottom as he kissed her. She pushed herself up by her elbows to give him easier access to her lips, and it was sweet and gentle and everything that it absolutely should not be. Even as one of his arms came up to cup her face and keep the kiss longer, as he started pressing himself rhythmically against her buttocks and she answered by raising to her toes and sinking down against at a pace that was just off from his, he couldn't keep thinking of it as he would have if anyone had mentioned it to him just an hour before.  
  
It was another couple of minutes gone when he finally pulled away to undo his belt, pull down the zipper and the elastic of his underwear and finally _have_ her. He felt his way up with a hand, nudging in between her legs and discovering what she felt like from behind as he let two fingers pull backwards until tender flesh gave way for familiar suction. He took himself in his other hand and hoarsely asked her to spread her legs a bit more, and stepped up to get his pelvic closer. He let his fingers slip out of her and moved up to push in, forcing himself to breathe as he was embraced tightly by oh-so-soft and warm and moist.  
  
He took a second to just feel her like this, alive and moving ever so slightly around him as she shifted her legs, happily trapped between him and the table when he rested his elbows at her side, pressed himself up closer to her until she lost her footing a little. He pulled back, then, and relished in the barely audible sound from where they met as he thrust into her once more.  
  
Really, Switzerland might have seriously injured the man who would have suggested to him that he ever would be rutting on his sister bent over their kitchen table at five thirty in the afternoon, but nobody had ever voiced that particular idea to him. And with her right hand clutched in his as her mouth emitted small, happy noises as her eyes were closed and her head was pillowed on her other arm, he couldn't get himself to find it anything but perfectly _sweet_ as he came in a series of short, breathy gasps.


End file.
